


Portkey Kidnapping

by Wolven_Spirits



Series: Souls of Ilk [6]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Kinda Crack, M/M, The Order blunders a little, There's still a war, Voldemort is probably really handsome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-26 01:30:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20381464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolven_Spirits/pseuds/Wolven_Spirits
Summary: Prompt: Kidnapping is easy if you load a gun with rubber bullets that you’ve made into Portkeys.For Stuffle.





	Portkey Kidnapping

**Author's Note:**

  * For [autumn_fog](https://archiveofourown.org/users/autumn_fog/gifts).
  * In response to a prompt by [autumn_fog](https://archiveofourown.org/users/autumn_fog/pseuds/autumn_fog) in the [TomarryFlashExchanges](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/TomarryFlashExchanges) collection. 

> **Prompt:**
> 
> Kidnapping is easy if you load a gun with rubber bullets that you’ve made into Portkeys.

“Ow! Fu-“ The rest of Harry’s sentence was cut off as he was whisked away by portkey. He landed in a cell in a heap of limbs, and had to slowly untangle himself before he could stand. There was no sign of his wand and he winced as he pressed a hand to his ribs where something small and hard was digging into his skin.

Easing apart the ripped robes, Harry caught a small, rubber bullet as it fell. It left behind a growing patch of bruised skin.

“Are you… are you serious?” He stared in horrified disbelief at the miniature portkey.

“No, that would be me,” a resigned voice rang out from the cell next to him where his godfather was sitting slouched against the wall. He held up a matching portkey.

Harry choked. “He got you, too?”

“And me,” Ron said glumly from a cell across from him. There was a thump and then a groan muffled by a cloud of bushy hair in the cell next to his. “And ‘Mione.”

“Most of the Order, really,” Tonks sighed from further down the row of cells. “None of us expected a muggle weapon.”

A chorus of dreary affirmatives followed her statement.

Harry spun in a circle, noting all the rather sheepish faces that greeted him. “Well,” he said, thinking of the way Voldemort’s eyes had gleamed, his leering smile dark with promise as he’d fired the gun. “Fuck.”


End file.
